El Río


here again by the stream

she leaves her dress in the weeds

takes a cautious step to the stone

touches her sole as water rushes over toes

a breeze gives her a chill; nipples tense

the next step immerses her leg

rushing water fights to sweep her

into his arms

the other limb plunges in for balance

her eyes gaze to the destination

cliff shadows engulf her bare skin

crystalline drops reflect, and glisten

illuminating specs covering her backside,

she dives

the water throws her down, then up

for a quick breath, then down again

an early death

Solid Air

Loneliness is what manliness cannot accept when alone.

The desire to hear harmony is cacophonous,

Pure unity is actually an acute, quiet drone.

If sitting on a park bench eating a sandwich,

Or maybe sipping coffee in a market,

Or rather, indulging in whatever distracts from reality-

TV, picking up a phone, parting legs to garner glances-

All this and more harden into large stones

That rest beneath every eye

To watch the sullen sun set without a friend

To touch or to hold.